


Fear Of The Dark

by Claretgirl16



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18873889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claretgirl16/pseuds/Claretgirl16
Summary: After seeing a prompt online about what would have it been like if there had been repercussions due to Joan's rape by the psychiatrist, I came up with this one shot.Enjoy!





	Fear Of The Dark

She'd had nightmares about it.  
Continued to have them off and on since she'd been here.  
Stuck in here.  
In this shit hole.  
Locked away like some animal.  
Just like when she was locked up there.  
Locked up like she was some crazed, unhinged, wild beast.

 

Everyone making assumptions.  
Everyone.  
That's all they saw.  
A monster.  
A crazed monster.  
Just looking at the surface.  
Not beyond.  
Not bothering.  
Not wanting to do so.  
Thinking she was way past that.  
Not worthy of such things.  
That she was the only one on the entire planet who'd made mistakes, like everyone else was perfect, innocent, that everything that ever happened was always her fault.

 

Everyone blamed her.  
Everyone.  
Not thinking that she could herself be a victim.  
A victim that had been attacked and abused from being a little girl.  
A little girl not long out of her toddler years.  
He'd started on her young.  
Wanting to mould her from an early age.  
Or should that be abuse her.  
Not that he'd have thought this.  
To him it was all 'normal'.  
It's what a father should do.  
How they should behave.  
It was her that was 'wrong'.  
Her who was 'naughty'.  
But she wasn't.

 

She was an innocent little girl.  
A little girl facing the wrath of a narcissistic, angry and cold father.  
One who projected all the ugly traits he had an felt onto her.  
Using her as an emotional battering ram.  
All this was easier than admitting his faults.  
That he needed help.  
That he needed some assistance with her.  
Some support.  
That really he was suffering, and he didn't want her to suffer to.  
But he didn't do any of this.  
He abused her.  
Damaged her.  
Made her feel unlovable.  
Scarred.  
Broken.

 

Things that had continued into adult hood.  
Into her jobs.  
Then her job at Wentworth.  
Culminating in her being taken away.  
Taken and then locked away.  
Sinclair being the godforsaken place.  
The psychiatric hospital.  
In a padded cell at first.  
In burnt clothes.  
Soot over her face.  
Then slowly into the main hospital.  
Given some medicines.  
Tablets.  
Things to calm her.  
To get her on a level.  
Settle her.  
Help her?  
But then he appeared.  
Him.  
That lech.

 

Well at first he wasn't.  
He was pleasant.  
Kind.  
Understanding.  
The blue print of what a psychiatrist should be.  
He sounded and came across like he actually wanted to help.  
Until a certain point.  
When he got her in that room.  
Alone.  
Tears down her cheeks and he pounced.  
The line was stepped over.  
Stepped over in the form of a hand on her knee.  
Something no professional in his position should do.  
Ever.  
But he did.

 

And then it developed from there.  
Developed to a horrendous level.  
One that is unthinkable.  
One that no one should have to endure.  
From anyone.  
Ever.  
He used his authority.  
Abused his position.  
In the worse way he could.  
Shoving her up against the wall like he did.  
Forcing himself on her.  
Inside her.  
Not stopping until he was satisfied.  
And not letting her away from being pressed, shoved and held against that wall.  
Her body frozen to the spot.  
Having to disassociate.  
Zone out from what was happening to her.  
Her mind not wanting to experience exactly what was happening.  
Numbing her to it all.

 

It's all this that had gotten her to where she is now.  
Back at Wentworth.  
But on the other side of the bars.  
In a cell on her own.  
In the teal uniform.  
Urgh it wasn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination.

 

Rubbing her forehead she stayed knelt down by the toilet bowl, her stomach sore and her mouth dry.

 

She'd been feeling off and not well for at least the past week, she wasn't usually one for being ill, she'd kept herself in good shape and ate well over the years, this going a long way to giving her a good bill of health, but this past week, well past few weeks truth be told she'd not felt well at all.  
Things had gotten that bad, the prison officers that concerned that they mentioned it to Vera, the governor making her way down to see Joan herself, seeing her complexion pale, her eyes tired, she didn't look well, so much so that Vera was insistent that she was going to medical to see the nurse.

 

Despite Joan's small protests she found herself in medical, the nurse at first wasn't sure what the problem could be, but then with a little bit more asking of questions and finding out that bit more about how Joan had been feeling, she left the room that Joan was in, speaking to Vera outside and telling her that she needed to do blood tests on the older woman, that she was sure that they'd give them the answers to what the issue was and why Joan was feeling as she was.

 

So she did them after Vera agree it was the right course of treatment, agreeing that the nurse was the medical professional and knew best in this situation, that Joan needed some kind of treatment, that she couldn't carry on feeling this way.

 

Joan was sent back to her cell not long after, the nurse had told her the test results would be back as soon as possible, within a few days in this case, under these circumstances.  
For the next few days she thought the symptoms she was feeling had eased, well in the morning they weren't too bad, sort of, it was the afternoon and the evening they were still there, lingering, not fucking going away.

 

Sat in her cell, on her bed, the door open a jar, the afternoon sunshine just starting to go down, emitting a soft glow through her window, Joan leaned against the wall, a pillow behind her back enjoying the settled nature her body was allowing at the moment, she could get used to this, god knows how long it'd last.

 

The other prisoners had gone to do their jobs, some outside to take in the last of the sunshine, she'd been given the option of staying in her cell given the fact she wasn't exactly fully fit at the moment. 

 

Hearing the voice of a certain small governor nearby, followed by the click of her heels on the floor, approaching where she was, Joan kept her eyes closed until there was a soft knock on the door.

 

She knew who it was.

 

"Yes" the door being pushed open that bit more, Vera coming into her space, this causing her to slowly open her eyes at the visitor, a piece of paper in the smaller woman's hand.  
"I've not long got your blood test results back and needed to come and see you about them" Joan's eyes moving from her eyes and down to the paper, then back up again.

 

What was that, a little swallow Joan?

 

Vera could've sworn she saw the hint of a tense and nervous swallow from the older woman.  
Joan sat up that little bit more, swinging her legs onto the floor, looking sideways at Vera.

 

"The good news is that you're not poorly, you're rather quite healthy..." taking a pause, looking at the paper in her hand and then back at the woman sat on the bed not three feet away from her. "But they did show...that the cause for your symptoms, how you've been feeling...it's because you're pregnant Joan" not quite believing that she was saying those words.

 

Joan closed her eyes at the words.  
A swallow and then deep breath, a form of trying to compose herself.

 

"I...I know.." a quick look out of the corner of her eye to Vera and then back in front of her to the wall, closing her eyes once again.


End file.
